“Increase speed to maximum,” she ordered the car. “Continue up to level three.” The highest level they could take the aircar. It was risky, because if the sparker got them, they’d hit the ground hard enough to die.
Please let them be out of range.
“Level three incurs a surcharge of seventy-five percent,” the aircar told her. “Please confirm.”
Blue fire sparked. Kept sparking.
“Confirmed,” Josune said, and held her breath as the merc she’d pointed out raised a thin rod. They should be out of range now.
Blue fire sparked out beneath them, kept sparking.
Their aircab kept rising.
Even if the Boost had paid someone to ignore them here at the spaceport, the authorities couldn’t ignore that. It might even curtail some of the Boost’s activities. Those sparks would cut power to a considerable part of the spaceport, and it was all on the security vids. At least until everything had gone black, that was. The smartest thing the mercs could do would be to lift in their shuttle and go back to the Boost.
If they could even do that after the spaceport fiasco.
She turned to Nika and Snow. Both had red, blistering burns on their left chin.
“Sparker did that?”
Nika nodded. “And it hurts like anything.”
“You must have given them a full dose.” It was lucky they hadn’t been in an aircar. At least she thought they hadn’t, for they were still alive.
“It shorted out our original cab. Not that we planned on taking it.”
Snow handed his sparker to Josune. “This thing is dangerous. I don’t know how you use it.”
She’d given him Reba’s, which was twice as powerful as her own. “It must have caused some damage.”
“It did.”
“Where to now?”
“We still have to collect the Songyan,” Nika said.
Josune had expected that. “So tonight we raid Songyan.” Where people would be waiting for them to turn up.
“It’s worse than that. We’re going to the Justice Department.”
* * *
• • •
They hired a room where they could talk in private.
“And eat,” Snow said. “I am starved.”
Josune called Roystan, let him know they were safe for the moment and they’d look at hiring a shuttle as soon as they thought it safe enough. It felt dishonest, but she didn’t tell him about the Songyan.
Nika might have noticed the omission, but she didn’t comment. “What about the Boost? Will it go after Roystan?”
“I’m hoping the Boost will have enough to worry about. Kitimat will want compensation for what happened earlier.”
You didn’t hide ships around a world as busy as Kitimat. Each ship was assigned an orbit and monitored. The Boost would have to break its own orbit to attack Another Road. Captain Norris would be stupid to try. Not only was the Justice Department headquarters on the planet, but every company had offices there as well. Large offices. Any attack on any ship would force the Justice Department to act.
Or maybe not. Put credits in the right hands and you could get away with anything, as they knew well.
Agent Alistair Laughton’s contact details that Dagar had sent through to Snow were lost until he got himself a handheld, and in this world of up-to-date technology and cutting-edge mods, they were hard to come by. You got handhelds out near the edge of the legal zone, where technology was limited, and you always needed backups.
“They know we’re here,” Nika said. “They knew we were going to Songyan. Which means they’ll most likely know we have to go to the Justice Department. They are one step ahead of us all the way. We’re walking into a trap.”
How did you avoid a trap like that? “Let’s not forget Wickmore’s here too. Somewhere.”
Nika shuddered. Josune was sorry she’d mentioned it, but it needed to be said. “I’ll see if I can find where Laughton’s office is.” She opened a screen.
Old news about Alistair Laughton wasn’t hard to find. Two years ago, he’d been suspended. The media had been full of it. Did he even work for the Justice Department anymore?
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Sometimes the direct way was the best way. Josune called the Justice Department.
It was a machine at the other end, not a human. “Please state which department you wish to speak to.”
“General inquiry,” Josune said.
After five more questions, she got through to a real person. “I have a sample I promised to send to Agent Laughton.” Josune should have thought up a better excuse before she called. “I don’t know where to send it.”
“The address is on the site,” the person at the other end said.
She was glad she’d looked up that much, at least. “Yes, but there are five addresses there. I don’t know which one to send it to.”
“Agent Laughton works out of the head office,” and they closed the link before Josune could ask any more questions.
“Friendly.” Nika prodded at the burned-out link in her jaw. Moved over to the mirror in the bathroom to look at it more closely. “We’ll have to get these fixed, anyway. If we walk into the Justice Department and can’t ID ourselves, they’ll stop us at the first security barrier. Oh!”
Josune and Snow both leaned over to look into the bathroom. Nika was staring at her image.
“Are you alive in there?” Snow asked.
Nika turned. “I know how we can get into the Justice Department. We’ll mod ourselves. And I know just who we’re going to look like.”
11
LEONARD WICKMORE
Leonard Wickmore was in the gym when Dagar Songyan called. “Snowshoe Bertram came by. Unannounced.”
If Wickmore had been Snowshoe, he wouldn’t have announced himself either. “When?”
“He just left.”
“You sent him to the Justice Department?”
“Yes. I gave him Agent Laughton’s details.”
“Was Nika Rik Terri there?”
“No. He had a woman with him, but it wasn’t Nika. I would have recognized her, and she would have recognized me. She’s my modder, you know.”
If Nika’s boyfriend, Alejandro, couldn’t recognize her at first glance, then Dagar wouldn’t either.
“She was quite—” Her connection dropped out.
Wickmore didn’t bother to call back. She’d given him what he needed. People like Dagar Songyan were generally a waste of space, but Dagar’s greed for the exchanger kept her useful. Without her he wouldn’t have known about Snowshoe’s order or that Laughton had confiscated the machine.
It would take half an hour to get from the Songyan factory to the Justice Department, longer if they stopped to plan, which they were likely to. But they were coming, and they’d be here tonight.
Finally.
“Right into my trap, Nika. Right into my trap.”
Provided Alistair Laughton didn’t get in the way. Laughton had a habit of popping up in places he wasn’t meant to. He should have been out of the picture by now. Wickmore hadn’t wanted to close the net on Lisbet Cross-Laughton. She’d been useful, but in the end, it had been more convenient to expose her in an effort to frame her husband. If only that blasted boss of his had done the right thing and sacked him, as any sensible person would have done, instead of trying to save his career. And now he was back, as large as life, and as annoying as ever.
Wickmore didn’t want Laughton in the way of tonight’s capture.
He called Manny, who’d been watching the agent.
“Where’s Laughton?”
“At home. He’s ordered takeout. Looks like he’s settled in for the night.”
Good, although he was likely to get a call very soon that would interrupt his dinner plans. “We’re ready to collect. Hav
e everyone assemble to meet me in fifteen minutes.”
“Consider it done.”
Laughton would go back to Dagar once he realized the Songyan was gone. She’d mention she’d called Wickmore. Hell, he’d probably get it from her link records. They didn’t need interfering agents who couldn’t be bribed getting in their way. It was time to get rid of Laughton. Permanently.
“And Manny, start Operation Pest Control.”
12
ALISTAIR LAUGHTON
Alistair hadn’t eaten a home-cooked dinner since he’d arrived back on Kitimat. Cam provided takeout every night.
“You realize I can’t get used to this,” Alistair said. “I can’t afford it.”
“Ask Paola for a pay raise.”
Alistair knew how that request would go.
“Surely you didn’t buy takeout every night before you came to Zell?”
“We had a kitchen staff. Or we ate at restaurants. I only discovered takeout when I left home.”
Alistair could see by the way Cam twitched that they were creeping into forbidden territory again. What could be so taboo that talking about him being from a wealthy family was off-limits?
“I’m grateful for the food, anyway.” Alistair served dinner.
They ate in silence for a while. Off to the north, a solitary drone showed black as it made its way across the sky. The drone was higher than it should be. Someone was about to cop a heavy fine. Aircars and drones had strict, segregated flight paths, and the maximum drone height was five hundred meters.
Cam followed his gaze. “What are you watching?”
“The drone.” A red spot, cooling down into purples as the night deepened. “I can probably see it more clearly than you can.”
“I can’t see a drone at all.”
Rather like walking into Leonard Wickmore’s office with regular eyesight and not realizing he had weapons hidden in the walls. He’d been to Wickmore’s office several times over the years. All it would have taken was one command. Alistair shuddered. He rubbed his eyes. “Do me a favor, Cam. Don’t ever go into Wickmore’s office on your own.”
Cam blinked. “Let me backtrack.” He ticked off topics on his fingers. “Eyesight. The view outside. Takeout for dinner.” He paused. “How did we get there from here?”
“Eyesight. You don’t want to see what’s inside Wickmore’s walls.”
Cam helped himself to more food. “I thought for a minute you were going to say what’s in his mind.”
Alistair wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was in Wickmore’s mind. “For a long time I was convinced he controlled Woden.”
“But you aren’t now?”
“There’s a fine line, Cam, where you have to step back and let others do the work because you’re too biased. I couldn’t let go of Wickmore as the bad guy, so I gave the case to one of my staff.”
“You had staff? What happened to them?”
Good question, and not something he’d thought about. “I don’t know.” His had been a close-knit team, but no one had dropped by his office.
“Wickmore has a reputation, even among the companies.” Cam pointed his fork at Alistair. “You don’t cross him without consequences.”
“He had that in the Justice Department too.”
“Wickmore acted like he knew nothing about body swapping, but Dagar knew. Do you think it’s real?”
Alistair honestly didn’t know. “Someone’s spreading rumors if it’s not, for Wickmore reacted too, even if you couldn’t see it. Maybe he’s been listening to Paola and he’s telling us what she wants to hear.”
Or she’d been listening to him.
But to what purpose? Talking about body swapping wasn’t something you’d draw attention to. Not if you were doing it. Even less if you weren’t. Which meant he likely believed it.
Rik Terri had gotten herself involved in something crazy. Willingly, like Dagar Songyan had seemed to? Or unwillingly?
“I hope we find Snowshoe soon.” They couldn’t move far until they found him, for they had to remain close to the Justice Department in case he came for his genemod machine. “We need—” He stopped as the entry buzzed.
Paola, this time immaculate in a cream silk suit, clinging to the foyer door. “Hurry up, Alistair, and let me in. It’s windy out here, and the building is swaying.”
The sway was still her imagination, but it was windy tonight. Alistair sent the lift for her and buzzed her in. “If you called before you came, I’d have the lift waiting for you.”
“If I call beforehand, people would know where I was going.”
She entered the apartment indecently fast.
As she entered the living area of the apartment, the dot of red that was the drone came closer. It must be bigger than he’d thought if he could see the heat of it so clearly through the wall. Or it was closer than was safe.
A reporting drone? And Paola hadn’t wanted people to know she was here. “Paola, I think you’re being spied on.”
Through the wall, the spot of red that was the drone blossomed and darkened. No, not the drone. Something had separated from it. Something hot. Coming toward the building. It took him a second to recognize the hot spot for what it was. A wasted second.
He pushed Paola back the way she’d come.
“Run, Cam,” he yelled. “Run.”
He hoped Cam was behind him.
An explosion rocked the apartment. Plastiglass disintegrated behind him. The inward force threw Cam forward and knocked Alistair and Paola off their feet.
The heat of the explosion made a mushroom cloud of red and yellow. The coolest part was on the floor.
The back of Cam’s shirt was on fire. Alistair rolled him over, the smell of burning flesh making Alistair gag.
A fireball whooshed over them. Paola moaned. At least he thought it was a moan. His ears were ringing, other sounds deadened.
“Stay down. There’s an emergency stairwell near the lift. Crawl toward it.” He couldn’t hear his own words.
His wall hangings were burning.
“What was that?” He thought that was what Cam asked.
Another explosion rocked the apartment. The lights went out. The building shuddered with aftershocks.
Paola would be feeling that sway now.
“Drone missile. Get to the stairwell.”
Paola started to stand up. He pulled her down.
“Crawl. You okay, Cam?”
“What?”
Alistair pushed him toward the door.
This high up, the wind was fierce and the air thin. They didn’t have a lot of time.
They made it out onto the tiny landing that was the emergency exit. Alistair slammed the door shut. The building specs indicated the landing was fire rated for two hours. He shook his head to clear his ears. Sound was beginning to come back.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cam said. There were no stairs, just a ladder. One side going up, one going down.
“Emergency exits are emergency exits,” Alistair said.
Paola made for the down ladder. “Two hundred floors! We’ll never get out.”
Two hundred and fourteen floors. And no, they wouldn’t.
“Go up.” Alistair prayed to whatever gods might be listening that the company hadn’t skimped on the building and that it was as structurally sound as the builders had claimed it to be.
Paola kept moving toward the down ladder. “The only way I’m going is down. We have to get out of here.”
Alistair pushed her toward Cam. “A few extra floors won’t make your landing any softer. You’ll hit just as hard.” The trouble with modules was that they were modular. Any holes, like emergency exits, were designed to stack over each other. If this top module had moved, they wouldn’t get down to the next level.
The building swayed, tilted
again. The three of them fell back against the door they’d just exited. If Paola had been on the ladder, she would have fallen.
They couldn’t stay here. “Up,” Alistair ordered. “Go.”
Cam grabbed Paola’s arm, guided her toward the up ladder, set her on the way, and started after her. “If anyone can get us out of here, Alistair can. He has—” Cam slid down the ladder he’d started up. Alistair caught him.
“Thanks . . . a plan. I’m sure.” He started up the ladder behind Paola again. “Hurry.”
Alistair linked in and called a pool car as he stepped onto the first rung. Let this not be the one time the car didn’t arrive as soon as he called it.
Another tilt and the whole building shrieked. So did Paola. Alistair braced himself and stopped his two companions sliding farther.
A lot of the blast had been absorbed by stabilizers in the floor, which were designed to neutralize any external forces. It had wrecked the stabilizers but had saved Cam’s life. Otherwise the force of the explosion would have killed him. Probably killed them all.
Unfortunately, the stabilizers were connected electromagnetically to other floors. With that connection broken, the top floors weren’t connected to those below. It was only a matter of time before the building built up enough momentum for the floors to slide off. The floor was settling. Whether it would settle flat or tilt, Alistair didn’t know. They were in trouble if it tilted. They were in trouble if it settled flat.
“Your foot, my face, Paola.” Cam was more breathless than he should have been climbing a ladder. He was hurt and hiding it. “This is a Nika Rik Terri design, you know. If you scar me, you’re paying the bill. I’ll charge you what she charges me to fix it.”
Something bounced off Alistair’s head. Probably one of the shoes she’d scarred Cam with.
They couldn’t afford to stop.
“Hang on tight and keep going. The faster you reach the top, the faster you’re out of danger.”
Then they were at the top, the three of them standing in the tiny space.
The exit door was jammed. At least it opened out onto the roof, not inward.
Stars Beyond Page 16
